withstanding my kryptonite

I was thinking a little more on the Science Girl's post on progress, which led to thoughts about the growth I've undergone in relation to men in the past couple of years, and one facet in particular could lead to a discussion, so here we are.

I have a "type." I'm pretty sure we all do. It's not just a physical type -- height, weight, eye color, hair color, facial structure, etc. -- that a person finds attractive; it's that personality type too. And unfortunately, in my case, that type is rather extremely unhealthy for me.

And he's the only kind of guy with whom I feel "sparks." He's internally tormented, philosophical, well-read, intelligent, half sweet, half jerk, self-absorbed, and very, very needy. These are the guys to whom I'm immediately drawn, without fail. This fatal attraction has caused me a lot of unnecessary grief over the years, but it's only within the past two that I've recognized it.

There are many reasons why this is the kind of guy with whom I fall head-over-heels in love. A lot of it has to do with conditioning. I was born a "gifted" child -- and this term relates not to IQ but to Alice Miller's definition in The Drama of the Gifted Child -- "gifted" in her terminology denotes a child who has an innate receptivity to the feelings and needs of others, and who generally serves as an emotional support for those others, often to his or her own detriment. I've often jokingly referred to myself as "Sarah the Confessor" -- I literally can't stand in the checkout line without someone around me turning to me and pouring out his or her woes. Another one my family calls me is "Sarah the Caretaker" -- I often spend over half an hour on the phone at work with potential clients, listening to their troubles and offering sympathy, and that's just one common example. This isn't complaining (I very seldom mind); nor is it bragging (it's not something I asked for or earned, and it's equal parts blessing and curse); it simply is.

While it isn't often a problem in my general relationships, I have had to learn to scale it back, and with large amounts of success; but I have an incredibly difficult time finding any kind of balance when it's a man I'm in love with ("in love" as distinguished from "love" -- "in love" being all the butterflies, passion, giddiness, ultra-charged sense of aliveness, etc.), and I have a harder time setting any personal boundaries. And this kind of guy is usually pretty screwed up, so all of my energy is spent taking care of him, trying to solve his problems, giving him emotional support, striving to make his life better, all the while exhausting myself and paying no attention to my own psychological health.

Of course I can never make his life better or fix his problems, but his need never diminishes, and I get burned out, and it ends up going nowhere. But bring the next guy of this type along and I'm at it again. The last time it happened, two years ago, was the worst, and it set me on a serious thinking journey. I decided that I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend it with a man who needs constant mothering and spends most of his time gazing into his navel. My family and friends supported this decision wholeheartedly.

Making a decision doesn't mean the temptation, or the attraction, is gone, however, which has made me increasingly cautious with the men I meet, and extremely critical of childish tendencies (sometimes overkill, but I have to fight so hard against myself that I ricochet in the opposite direction). I know my own weaknesses, but I'm not always sure how successfully I can overcome them. This is why, too, when the question of "settling" came up I found myself an advocate of the idea -- because it's going to take a little fanning to make a tiny little spark a fire with the kind of man who is actually good for me. My type has the flame roaring in an instant, but I shouldn't have him; so I have to watch for the smaller sparks, and maybe work a little harder to get the fire going. For whatever reason, the strong, good men don't always do it for me, but that's the kind of man I intellectually want, and the kind of man I need. That's the sensible match.

I've seen a lot of people who have bad types, fatal attractions of their own, and it's not just the gals. I see a lot of really nice, good, thoughtful, kind, decent men wind up with the most horrible shrews a person can imagine. So it makes me wonder, why is that?

What about you? What kind of a "type" do you fall for effortlessly? Is the type good for you or bad for you? How has it impacted your dating/married life? What kind of challenges come with your type, even if it's a good type? If it's a bad type, how have you seen yourself grow to compensate for your natural inclinations? What are the most effective strategies?

Please tell!